


Drabble #1

by Soupernabturel



Series: Magical Mystical Bunker Verse [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Claustrophobia, Claustrophobic Castiel, Cuddling, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Mystical Bunker Verse, canon AU, season nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 21:43:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4278987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernabturel/pseuds/Soupernabturel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble #1

**Author's Note:**

> Ten minute ficlet, unedited :P

All it took was one little noise, a slight shifting in the room and Dean was up, gun in hand aiming at some hidden intruder.  _Someone was in his room._

 

Still aimed on the space beside him, Dean reached over and flicked on the light.

 

Messy brown hair, blue eyes. Dean lowered his gun instinctively before his mind had really processed the fact that Castiel was lying beside him.

 

“Jesus Cas,” Dean breathed, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Fuck man, don’t do th-” peering between his fingers Dean stopped, words catching in his throat.

 

Skin. A lot of it. Jimmy was pretty toned for an office working father of one. The years had been kind to his never changing body. His chest was broad with strong shoulders all narrowing down to narrow hips, a thatch of dark hair leading to really a sizable co...

 

Dean squeaked, manly, and scrambled on the spot in his bed. “Cas!” he gasped,  _look away look away look up shit don’t look at your best friend’s dick._  “Is there a reason you-you’re naked in my bed?”

 

Castiel laid there, arm’s by his sides, flat on his back. He spared Dean a glance, turned his cheek against the opposite pillow. His eyes a dark blue in the low light. After Metatron stole Castiel’s grace and he officially became human for good, Sam and Dean had raced out to draw the ex-angel into the Bunker, Dean himself determined to keep his dwindling family together. Since, Dean was determined to help his best friend learn to live without his grace. A part of him enjoyed teaching Cas the mundane stuff, but a part of him, deeper, older, hidden, was drawn to the ex-angel in a way he never acknowledged before. Proximity was his downfall, without any Big Bad’s to fight or threats of death, it was making those feelings, _his feelings_ for Cas almost unbearable.

 

Cas rolled onto his side facing Dean, certain  _things_ shifted, dangled, hung and Dean choked on his next breath.

 

“I feel-” Cas said, then showed Dean his fist, squeezing it knuckle white before releasing his fingers, like a miniature explosion. He stopped then, eyelids dropping, tiredness so extreme that his hand fell back in the space between them.

 

Dean’s heart thumped wildly in his chest. He stared at Castiel, purposefully above chest height.

 

“Yeah, but?”  _Naked?? Here??_  Dean didn’t know how to ask.

 

Castiel looked at him out of the corner of his eye, sadly. “Things are so enclosed here, everything is small, solid.”

 

Dean swallowed,his throat suddenly tight for an entirely different reason than a naked Cas in bed beside him.

 

“As an angel I stood and observed stars explode. Galaxy’s shift, nature tear apart planets. The vastness of space, of Heaven was a part of me, I would weave between, encapsulate, consume very  _existence_. But for the first time I can’t reach out and- and stretch any more. I’m here in this,” he ran a hand down his chest, over himself/Jimmy.

 

Though the act in and of itself was not sexual, not meant to be, Dean couldn’t help watching the gesture with darkened eyes.

 

“What?” he asked as Cas was silent for a time. “You’re saying you’re  _claustrophobic_?”

 

Cas seemed shrink on himself even more. His knees drew up slightly, and his hand brushed against Dean’s pillow, shortening the space between them.

 

“I feel small. Dean.” he said with devastating simplicity, “for the first time in a millennia. I feel…  _small_.”

 

Fear, childlike coated Cas’ words. There was an unspoken answer in their somewhere, why here, why Dean. But it was late, or early depending, and Dean did not have the energy in him to press the issue.

 

The simple truth was Cas was afraid, and he sought Dean out to feel comforted.

 

Dean scooted closer, and flicked off the light. Cas' nakedness vanished but his presence remained. Cas gave a gasp- and Dean reached out to turn the light back on, but stilled when Cas’ hand reached out and touched his hip tenderly.

 

“I’m fine.” he whispered into the dark. Dean sucked in a tight breath, Cas’ fingers were warm, rubbing against his shirt, bunching the material. “As an angel I’d never experienced a loss of sense before. No like this. I’m fine truly.”

 

“You get used to it.” Dean whispered, but not without some understanding. “I promise Cas, this, all of this will get easier.”

 

“It’s easier with you,” Cas answered. “I find it…calming to be near you.”

 

Dean didn’t jump when Cas rid the gap between them. A long ling of naked heat beside Dean’s, pressing close. One man above the blanket, one beneath. It wasn’t so bad, being the little spoon.

 

Cas needed this, apparently. Needed the grounding that Dean’s presence could offer. Dean didn’t move didn’t breathe for a full minute. Cas sighed in the dark and wrapped strong arms around Dean’s waist, nuzzling close.

 

Cas' breath on the side of his face, his eyelashes feather light against Dean's cheek was the last thing he could recall before sleep took him.

 

In the morning, when Dean was woken with gentle warm breaths on his neck and warm hands around him. He laid back instead of rising, and in the quiet of the morning tried to fathom how a creature so small could mean so much to a being once larger than life itself.

 


End file.
